Guatever

…or how I learned to date young women

Ciudad de Oaxaca came into view through the clouded window. It spread out before us in a valley far below the highway. I was a passenger on this particular bus for several hours after transferring in Mexico City. To my delight, when the driver would stop to stretch his legs, women boarded with covered baskets full of burritos and tacos for just a few pesos.

I had heard all manner of horror stories about the great city that was home to 20 million people but I had no idea what to expect. Just from the safety of my coach I witnessed a circle of men conducting a dusty dog fight in the median between opposing lanes of traffic. After that I decided it best to stare straight down the aisle and mumble what little Spanish I knew to myself.

I was meeting back up with my girlfriend after leaving her on the Pacific beach of Mazunte a few days earlier. I can still remember her chasing me down through panicked tears as I kicked sand up between my legs, with everything I had strapped to my back. Everything save for the tent, which I left for her in an act of goodwill. Once I left her far enough behind, the reality of what I had done hit me.